


Prospects

by AccursedSpatula



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: Child Abuse, Community: norsekink, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-18
Updated: 2011-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-26 05:35:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccursedSpatula/pseuds/AccursedSpatula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Odin spoke of the loved ones he had betrayed, Thor snuck a glance at Loki.</p><p>He hadn’t betrayed Loki.</p><p>Loki had betrayed <i>him,</i> long ago, one dark night in Thor’s bedroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prospects

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for a prompt on norsekink: http://norsekink.livejournal.com/6119.html?thread=11434727#t11434727
> 
> Beta'ed, as always, by the lovely Moiraine.
> 
> Thor's views on homosexuality don't in any way reflect my own. I typically write Asgard a bit more like Viking culture than it's portrayed in the comics or movies, and his views are in-line with that sort of society.

At first, Thor had nothing but love in his heart for Loki.

They’d grown up together, played together as children, gone to lessons with one another, shared their whole lives, and Thor could think of no one he trusted more than Loki. Throughout boyhood, they were inseparable, but now, as they matured, as Thor was given his first set of practice weapons and Loki given books, a rift seemed to grow between them.

Loki’s eyes, so innocent and endearing, now sometimes held jealousy and resentment, but Thor pretended it wasn’t there. They were no longer boys, he knew, nearly men now, with scraggly bits of hair coming in on their faces, voices that fluctuated wildly and rapidly growing bodies, having long outgrown their childish games, and he hoped that Loki could outgrow this jealousy as well.

But today, as Loki watched Thor bring him a platter of grapes, having stolen the platter from the kitchen when Loki expressed a whimsical desire for them, the familiar devious malice was in his eyes. Thor handed him the platter with a smile, but the grin Loki returned was sharp and cunning, nearly malicious, and it sent a pang of fear through Thor.

“Thor,” he said, plucking a lone grape. “You love me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Thor answered. “More than anything.”

“And you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”

Thor nodded, almost hesitant. “Anything, Loki. Anything.”

Loki leaned back in his chair, sated, smirking while Thor looked on, mildly worried, but trying to chase away those fears with the reasoning that Loki loved him, that Loki would never hurt him, that Loki would never betray him.

\---

Later that night was when Loki first came to him.

He crept into Thor’s room, nearly silent, padding across the marble floor to his bed. Loki sighed softly as he sat on the bed, sliding over to where Thor lay, curled on his side, half-asleep, too tired to be startled by Loki’s presence. His brother lay behind him, nestling close to Thor, as they had done when they were much younger, and a part of Thor realized just how inappropriate this was, but he was sleepy and warm and in his fuzzy mind it didn’t matter all that much.

All of his calm resolve shattered, however, when Loki touched him _there._

Loki’s nimble arm had reached around Thor’s waist, his hand coming to rest between his brother’s thighs, gripping at the most intimate part of him, and Thor was hit with a flash of startled pleasure and sudden discomfort.

“Loki, stop,” he said, reaching to pull his brother’s hand away. “We’re not—we’re brothers….”

“Shh, Thor,” Loki whispered, his fingers gripping tighter as Thor’s hand closed on his wrist. “You love me, don’t you?”

Thor flushed hotly, grateful that Loki couldn’t see him in the dark. “Y-Yes.”

“This is how two people express love, isn’t it?”

Thor dropped his hand, instead fisting it in the sheets. He knew little of sex, little of coupling and relations with another in bed, but perhaps Loki knew. Loki was always so smart—he had to know about these things as well.

But Loki was his _brother._ Loki was another _man,_ not some soft, pretty maiden Thor’s own age.

And so he screwed his eyes shut, fighting back tears as Loki pushed up his undertunic, skimming his hand over Thor’s stomach and then onto the planes of his chest, sighing contentedly. He loved his brother, he did, and if this was what Loki wanted, if this was how love was shown….

By the time Loki was done, was sated and ready to leave, Thor was hollow and confused, staring blankly at his hands as Loki stroked his hair and kissed his ear and then departed.

“I love you, Thor.”

He offered no response, and a moment later Loki slipped out the door without a sound.

\---

The next time Loki came for him, he warned Thor not to tell their parents anything of what they did. “If you do,” he cautioned, “we’ll both get in trouble. And then I’ll be very angry with you. I might not even forgive you.”

Thor nodded, shakily, perhaps too eagerly, for he was frightened of losing his brother’s love, of losing the bond they shared. And so when Loki motioned for Thor to undress, he complied willingly, never uttering another word of protest that evening.

\---

Loki very quickly expected Thor to touch him in the same manner he fondled his brother.

Once he had desensitized him to that, numbed Thor to the actions his body performed, he moved on to newer things, teaching Thor how to please him with his mouth. Thor had resisted at first—the touches he could stomach, but the fellatio was something that terrified him. Yet when Loki had acted hurt and offended, he’d broken down and gotten on his knees for his brother.

Loki had sat on Thor’s regal bed, legs parted, his brother kneeling between them, a hand resting on each of Loki’s thighs. Thor had stared at Loki’s cock for a long second, blue eyes flitting upwards to seek approval, and then, very carefully, he started as Loki instructed him.

Thor hated it. He hated every second of it, of having Loki’s manhood in his mouth, of the bitter taste, of the sounds his brother made while being pleasured. Afterwards, when Loki patted him and stroked his hair and told him that he had done a good job, an _excellent_ job, he just wanted to vomit and curl up by himself.

His brother had indulged him, dressing and kissing Thor goodnight before departing, and Thor laid in his bed, feeling debased and utterly _used_ , and wondered why, _why_ anyone would do these things for another.

\---

Sometimes Loki liked to pleasure Thor.

He would stroke and touch and tease his brother, enjoying the sounds and the way Thor reacted, how he squirmed helplessly, unsure of was happening or why it felt so good. Sometimes Thor would wake up after certain dreams to find his manhood stiff between his legs, but although he had heard other boys speak of doing it, and he’d even thought of it on several occasions, he’d yet to muster up the courage to touch himself in such a manner.

Yet when Loki was touching him, Thor was caught between ecstasy and anguish, torn from the wonderful sensations by the shame and anxiety. Often times, the moment Loki left him, Thor would dart to his bathroom and wash in the middle of the night, scrubbing his skin raw and red, and even drawing blood on more than one occasion.

He hated himself for liking it, for enjoying it. He felt twisted and perverted, like his body had betrayed him, going along with Loki, and soon only his mind was left to remind him of the things that had been done to him, and the things he was forced to do.

\---

Loki bragged of Thor’s prowess to his friends.

He dragged one of his companions to meet Thor one day, a boy Loki’s age, thin but not wiry, with a shock of blond hair that fell into his face. He had cornered Thor in his room, with the boy in tow, and cooed sweetly to Thor, urging him forward to display those natural talents he had. Thor stood stock-still, afraid someone would see them here, in this secluded room, or that this boy would tell stories, but Loki assured him that his friend would never, never breathe a word of this.

“Go on,” Loki had said to the boy when Thor had finally given in and taken a step forward. “Undo your laces. Help him, Thor.”

They were both confused, this blond boy and Thor, moving slowly, and Thor realized then that they were simply pawns to Loki, both under his strange influence, seeking his approval in their lives. And so neither uttered a protest as Thor fell to his knees and performed the intimate act that so unsettled him on a stranger while his brother eagerly and avariciously looked on.

When they’d finished, Loki’s eyes gleamed with delight, and he departed with his friend, the blond still fumbling to redo his trousers. He glanced over his shoulder at Thor, still kneeling and wiping his mouth, hurt and afraid and devastated, and had smirked at him, a look that said _you have pleased me._

After that boy, there were so many more nameless ones that they blurred together in Thor’s mind, one faceless, anonymous collective of those who had taken their pleasure from the crown prince of Asgard.

\---

Thor was unprepared for the first night Loki took him.

He had assumed that his brother would simply continue to demand touches from him—touches and his mouth and sometimes his thighs, when Loki liked to thrust between them, but he had never assumed his brother would degrade him that much. Thor knew that men and women were different. However, he also knew that two men could lie together in a similar fashion to a man and a woman, but that it was shameful to be used for such a thing. They called them _ergi,_ those men who willingly enjoyed submission in the act.

Yet one night Loki simply pushed Thor onto his stomach, spit on his fingers and roughly jammed them into his brother without ceremony while Thor yelped in protest. He begged Loki to _stop,_ offered him any alternative he could think of, but Loki’s fingers had remained cruelly in his body. As his brother continued working him he began to cry, trying to squirm away from Loki’s grasp, from the prodding sensations of his brother’s fingers _inside his body._

“Does it hurt?” he asked when Thor had quieted down to simply dry sobs. “It must hurt; this is your first time. I’ll get something.”

Thor wanted to run away, to hit his brother and make him stop all of this, but he knew if he did Loki would reveal these perversions, and all of the times Thor had _liked_ it (times he had hated himself after for doing so), to their parents. Society would never be able to accept him after that.

And so, when Loki fucked him like a dog, Thor cried silently into the sheets and let his brother do as he pleased.

\---

Thor knew nothing else of love. Loki’s visits were his only means of gaining affection, of gaining approval and love from his brother, and he assumed it must be so with everyone else. And so, he tried to mask his confusion when Fandral was startled by Thor’s abrupt, unprovoked offer to pleasure him. They’d known each other for a short time now, still eager youths who stood on the cusp of manhood, both intrigued by the budding sexuality that had suddenly bloomed in them after all of the other changes that had happened to their bodies. And Thor was eager to cement the friendship between them, to have another steady companion besides Loki.

“You want to…” he had said, face turning crimson. Thor remained unfazed. “If you…if you want.”

When he was finished, Fandral looked down at him with confused, bewildered eyes, cheeks still flushed from pleasure, and Thor wondered if he simply hadn’t been good enough. But Fandral nervously flashed him a quick smile, assuaging Thor’s fears, and so he grinned in return.

\---

As they grew older, as the beard came in on Thor’s face and Loki grew almost a full head in height, their encounters waned off until they were few and far between. Thor knew what to expect when Loki came to him now, knew exactly how to service his brother, knew all the touches and tricks and spots to please Loki.

He still felt filthy when Loki left him. He supposed it would never leave him, that sense of uncleanliness, of feeling like an utter degenerate, but he did his best to mask it. His mind, to save himself from constant torment at the sight of his brother, at the sight of his family, blocked out large chunks of his childhood, mixing good with bad, and Thor found himself unable to remember exciting trips taken with his father as well as when Loki had taken him to bed and raped him.

\---

Sometimes, however, Thor sought out Loki.

He would creep to Loki’s room in the middle of the night, and nudge his brother awake, until Loki’s sleepy green eyes opened and looked at him with perverted glee. Thor would do anything Loki asked of him at that point, desperate for approval and attention, the kind Loki would readily ply on him when Thor’s head was between his legs, or Thor’s body pinned beneath his. Mother had long since outgrown the time for spoiling her children and lavishing affections on them, and Father had always been sparing in his praise, especially as his boys grew older, and so Thor had come to depend on Loki for such affirmations.

He abhorred himself for it, and the punishments he inflicted on himself were staggering in their severity. Cuts and burns and bruises would usually appear on his body by the next morning, but Thor always explained them away as wounds earned either by accident, from sparring, or perhaps on his latest misadventure.

\---

Thor couldn’t be intimate with anyone else. Soon enough (too soon, he felt), girls were interested in him, swooning over him as he entered the halls, latching on to him to stroke his arms and whisper in his ears. He knew there were rumors about him, about his prowess between the sheets, his virility and stamina, but he knew they were all false, for he had never bedded any maiden.

When Sif took an interest in him, those around him nudged them together, and Thor could see that she was genuinely attracted to him, and he did like her, so he did his best to feign physical attraction. When they kissed, when they embraced, Thor was tormented, caught once more between desire and shame, but Sif did not pressure him, although he sensed that she was confused and offended when he did not return her advances.

To Thor, that kind of expression was something he detached from love, especially the kind he showed toward Sif. It was simply an act to him, something to be endured, _lie still, let him finish with you, roll over when he’s done._ He couldn’t reconcile the two, couldn’t reconcile gentle Sif’s soft touch and comforting embrace with his brother’s fondling and groping and base actions.

He concluded he wasn’t worth of Sif’s love and care, and gently pushed her away, with sadness in his eyes and hatred in his heart, hatred at the brother who had fractured him so.

\---

Thor cared little for anything after that.

Loki came to him a few more times thereafter, until one night Thor lost the last few bits of restraint. His brother slunk across the floor, quickly climbing into Thor’s bed and sitting beside him, nudging Thor to turn onto his back.

Thor didn’t move, instead offering a curt, “Get out.”

Loki bent down and pressed a few kisses to Thor’s neck until a thick hand and an arm shoved him away with a startled squawk. “You want this, Thor. Don’t act like you don’t.”

“I said, get out.”

“Don’t deny me, or I’ll—”

Thor rolled them over, pinning Loki, holding him down by the sheer force and muscle his frame contained. There was fear in Loki’s eyes for the first time, genuine fear, and he was frantically searching Thor’s face for what had provoked this change in his brother’s demeanor.

“Or you’ll _what,_ Loki? Tell Mother and Father? Tell them of the things we’ve done? Of the things _you’ve_ done?” He felt tears in his eyes, tears of anger at this snake beneath him, tears of sorrow for the childhood he’d lost, tears for Sif’s love that he would never know.

Loki squirmed and struggled, trying to break free of Thor’s grip to little avail. Eventually he went still, and they lay there, looking at one another, Thor’s tears running down his cheeks and dripping onto Loki’s face below.

Eventually he sat back, releasing Loki, who fluidly left the bed and scampered out of the room, leaving Thor to weep silently, alone as he always was now.

\---

Thor had been a fool for going to Jotunheim.

His father continued to yell at him, about the consequences of war and what he had just done, but Thor couldn’t listen—his mind was a buzz of a thousand different thoughts. But through the haze he could see Loki staring at him, almost smug, and hatred for his brother, as well as his father, flowed into the mixture of emotions percolating inside him.

When Odin spoke of the loved ones he had betrayed, Thor snuck a glance at Loki.

He hadn’t betrayed Loki.

Loki had betrayed _him,_ long ago, one dark night in Thor’s bedroom.

As Thor was flung back on the Bifrost, he saw the condescending, victorious look on his brother’s face, knowing that his secret was about to be banished, about to be _exiled_ to another realm entirely.

Thor knew he should hate him more for it. But all he could feel was relief, relief that he would finally be free of the monster in his family.


End file.
